Slices of Tsubasa
by Koichama
Summary: A collection of short stories set within the TRC timeline. Chapter 6 RINGTONE: Fai and Mokona discover the magical wonders of personalized ringtones, to the dismay of the others. Warnings for this chapter: None.
1. ｹｰｷ

Note: This story used to be titled ｹｰｷ, after the first chapter of this fic. I changed the title to Slices of Tsubasa specifically because I changed this fic into a multi-chapter that's not just about cake. Every drabble I post will vary in themes. Some will be humorous. Others may be shippy. Please refer to my profile page if you are curious about what ships I might include. All of them will be around 500 words, give or take, and I will label each entry.

Small Intro: This was originally a part of another story. However, the scene did not fit, and it broke the flow of my story. In a sense, this is a drabble, just a small slice-of-life scene I could not discard. Also, this is not intended as a Syaofay(?), as I do not do that pairing. This is very light fluff, and though there is some innuendo, pairings are subjective.

About the title, yes, I am a dork. ｹｰｷ is Japanese (katakana) for cake, pronounced ke-ki.

oOo

Fay always equated love with baking; he tried to explain the concept to Kurogane once, but the man was more interested in his vanilla bean cake than philosophical musings. "What does this have to do with anything?" he told the mage gruffly, already disgruntled that Fay had sneaked him a bite while he was talking. He did not complain about the taste though. However, Kuro-sama was not the type to listen to abstract musings, so Fay took his musings to Syaoran instead, a much more susceptible target.

"You see, love is like baking," he exclaimed sagely. He leaned in close to Syaoran and watched his expression.

With the cake halfway to his mouth the boy wondered, "What do you mean, Fay-san?" Syaoran shifted as if the chair all of a sudden became uncomfortable, and Fay pretended to take no notice.

"I was just thinking that of all the things you add to cake – eggs, milk, flour, sugar – you never can taste them. You see, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts; however, each individual ingredient is just as important as the next. You never would get quite the same result if you forgot an ingredient. Furthermore, the end product tastes nothing like the individual ingredients; you would never think you were eating eggs right now would you?"

"So what you're saying is that love is as complex as a cake?" Syaoran said between bites. He flushed as he chewed, probably thinking of his relationship with Sakura. Maybe he thought about all those moments he spent with her, both new and old, how his feelings gradually grew and changed, every part of their relationship that meshed into the giant mixing bowl called love.

Fay corrected, "No, I am saying love is as simple as cake." He took great amusement from the quizzical look on his face – little puppy. "You don't have to think about the individual ingredients to enjoy cake, though they're still there; just savor the taste. After all, we all like to taste something sweet every once in a while, even Kuro-sama likes to take a bite of a sweet-thing every now and again. Although he can be stubborn; sometimes, I have to practically shove it down his throat. He fusses at first, but then he starts to relax and enjoy himself. This can get messy and sticky sometimes, and sometimes we end up on the floor that way… Something wrong Syaoran-kun?"

The boy was gaping, his fork forgotten as it hovered near mouth. Crumbs and frosting smeared his cheek as if he had eaten blindfolded. In a high-pitched voice he asked, aghast, "Are we still talking about cake Fay-san?" His face was marked scarlet, and he put down his fork, looking at the cake as if he suddenly saw it in a new light.

"Yes, what did you think we were talking about?" He asked with eyebrows raised. He replayed his words in his mind and chuckled when he realized the innuendo. Syaoran would never believe that was completely unintentional, coming from him at least.

"I-I, thank you for the cake," he said in a rush, leaving half of the cake uneaten. Perhaps next time, Syaoran would appreciate it if he baked cookies instead.

oOo

I find slight Syaoran-torture entertaining. Does this make me a sadist?


	2. Marksmanship

This is another scene intended for a longer fic. However, as the story progressed, I realized that the only interesting or novel part of the story was this scene. I just cannot throw some things away.

**oOo**

Air rustled through his feathered bangs, tossing them madly against his face. The mage stood alone that night, just him against a backdrop of purple sky. To his side, were the last rays of light, meaning he had been on the field for at least six hours, since noon. Not far away, tents clustered together like a bunch of paper lanterns. Silhouettes of men with hazy outlines flickered across the canvas' sides. Music reached him, carried by the persistent wind. He leaned slightly towards the jovial sound, as if his body was naturally inclined to follow the party. The land of Shura was a unique place, unique to Fay as, for the first time, Kurogane was more social than he was. Accepted into this foreign country, to fight in a foreign war, they were both strangers, but Fay was the only one out-casted by his inability to talk with the natives.

They valued him for his skills in battle and little else. The mage was accustomed to this behavior though, even expecting it. After all, the only use he could provide was as a tool and a weapon. He was as dangerous as the bow in his hand. No wonder he shared a kinship with the weapon, almost like they were friends. They were nearly twins, him and the bow. Neither of them could be blamed for the blood they shed; as the arrows of the bow were directed by other hands, so was his actions.

With a forced grin on his face, he lifted his long bow. The arrow's shaft wedged between the chord and index finger. Ahead of him was a straw mat, roughly tied together to resemble a human. He did not squint as he lined the arrow with the target. Wind continued to howl, and he shifted the head of the arrow slightly higher, imagining the arc, as if a line was drawn from his arrow to the target. Pulled. Released.

_Plunk_

The weapon lodged itself in the target's shoulder. His aim was slightly off, but the force of the shot was enough to pierce through a dragon's hide. He lowered his weapon. He was a little off the mark – story of his life.

Laughter from the tents reached him, wild, deep barks of amusement. The men were drinking again. Normally he would enjoy a row or two, maybe one drinking game, and an unabashed moment as he sang with all the wrong lyrics, but drinking games were less fun when no one understood his jokes. Regardless, he longed to hear one particular deep, steady voice. It wasn't fair for a weapon to long so much. Perhaps, it was best he could not speak with Kurogane; those silly thoughts running through his head were better kept to himself. Maybe later, when things returned to normal, he would have a drink and crack a joke.

As the wind continued to howled, drowning out the music, the chilling solitude closed around him. His weapon suddenly felt like a toy in his hands. And he was a small, lost boy. He was alone in an army of many. Not for the first time in his life, he felt as if he was a child screaming at a tower.

**oOo**

Sorry, this was not as lighthearted as the last drabble, but I tend to be good at melancholy pieces.**  
**


	3. The Last Bite

This chapter contains one of my solid OTPs.

**oOo**

Was it all just a dream, a fairytale, a fantasy? You and me, we were like one soul that had been split in two. Granted, we've had our share of bumps and sprains, but we had fun didn't we? I floated on a sea of bubbly happiness when I was with you, believing the good times were eternal. You were generous then, but that was before this mess. What became of us?

Staring at your hard exterior, I wonder, "Will it ever be like before?"

I know you meant me no harm, but I feel the pain of our carelessness. My whole body aches. The sun feels oppressive now, as if the sparkly rays of light are what handcuff me to the dark room. The way my tongue sticks to my dry throat is uncomfortable, the thirst unquenchable. Who would have thought that our friendship would end so miserably? Of course, you offer no condolences. You stand over my bed, as stiff as ever. I roll away, trying to get the image of you out of my head, but I cannot forget. You will not allow me to forget. You really are a devil beneath that slick persona. If I wasn't so addicted to you, I would give you up like a bad habit. However, you are not a bad habit, not really. Despite what other people may believe, you can be gentle, even comforting.

Tears roll down my cheeks, and I tell myself it is from my headache, my headache from you. You are in my veins, burning like acid, but I would be cold without you. This codependence is maddening. I despise relying on you every night, but I cannot live without you, a sickening paradox that threatens to tear my soul's allegiance in half. I stuff my face into the pillow, hiding my anguished look as a wave of nausea hits me. When my stomach settles, I turn to my side to find you in the same spot beside the bed. Ever since we left Tokyo, I've had this insatiable urge for you. This thirst still lingers, even after I have had my fill of you. If I am to be completely honest with myself, I would say that you were in my system long before Tokyo.

"Why did you betray me?" I ask in a whimper. No answer. Of course, you are as cold as ever.

I tried another question. "Do you like seeing me in pain?" Again, you remain silent. I did not expect an answer, as I never receive one.

The door creeks open, and a friendly voice calls, "Feeling any better Mokona?"

I reply with as much energy as I can manage, "Fay was right. Mokona should not have had so much to drink last night."

He offers me a hot drink, tea, something to help me forget you. It is tart and tastes faintly of lemon, nothing like your last bite. Fay puts you in the cupboard to hide our shame; a small amount of liquid still splashes inside your crystal clear exterior. If only you did not give me a hangover, we could still be together.

**oOo**

Crack! Crack for everyone! This is what happens when a writer does not have inspiration for any serious stories. I was purposely misleading, but in a good way. MokonaxAlcohol is the ultimate OTP. Partly inspired by my eternal estrangement from Vodka. That stuff is abusive, so never get involved.

I know Mokona has a shockingly articulate inner-dialogue, but who is to say that she shouldn't? She can be quite intuitive at times.


	4. Horse Sense

It has been a while since I posted. I thought I should at least try some ficlets. This fic is based off a GW500 prompt, "Horses." The prompt gave me an idea for TRC. Also, Kurofay is blatant in this chapter.

Silliness + innuendo = This fic.

* * *

Kurogane had seen Fay at his worst and his best, but until today, he had never seen him so genuinely out of his element. Fay took to the horse like a fish on dry land. He flopped and gasped on the animal, clinging to the black mane, acting as if the temperamental animal would toss him off the continent. The sight broke through years of stoicism brought on by harsh training, and Kurogane smiled.

"I don't think she likes me." Fay said, as the mare bucked and trotted around the ninja. If horses could emote, this beast would be laughing snidely at Fay. Her neigh already sounded like a mocking laugh.

With insulting ease, Kurogane pulled the horse to a stop and helped Fay get off. "Haku usually is good natured," he said. "Perhaps this was a stupid idea to go horseback riding, but for some reason I imagined you would be better at this, considering how well you rode in Shura." "Well, Kuro-sama was a better ride than Haku," Fay said. To which Kurogane ignored - no point in breaking the serenity. Besides which, it was a rather flattering compliment, vulgar and unnecessary, but flattering.

Despite the previous banter, the moment was serene, almost dreamlike. Fay's eyes gazed in the far distance, past the setting sun that laid a golden thread across the horizon. Though Kurogane had no clue where his mind was, he knew it was not on the roan mare plucking grass from the field. That contented smile on the mage's face was reminiscent of those evenings spent, half-awake, after an exhausting session of sex. Perhaps Fay was lost in those moments as well. "Kurogane, do you know what I like?" Startled by the use of his full name, he could only stare from a position of utter disbelief. "Spending time with you."

The genuine affection of those words replaced his stoic nature with awed reverence, and he could only gape at the beautiful man who would be gracious enough to want to spend time with a grumpy brute like himself, as for the longest time, he could not remember anyone else sharing that sentiment. Kurogane, shaking as if he never touched the man before, patted him on the shoulder. "You're blushing," Fay said. His smile widened into a smirk.

"Pfft." He snatched his hand back. Like a spell being lifted, Fay's teasing remark jolted Kurogane into reality, and he was able to look at the other man without delusion. Fay was just as lucky that a serious and loyal guy like him wanted to spend time with such an annoying tease.

"I think I liked you better on the horse," he said hoping to unbalance the mage.

"I meant what I said." The air stilled, and even Haku perked his ears in interest. Kurogane felt his heart beat faster, and he was certain another sentimental comment would give him a heart attack. "Kuro-sama is a much better ride than Haku." Having enough of the mage, Haku neighed indignantly and bucked Fay off his feet with her heavy head.

Kurogane forgot his ninja training all together and chuckled. "You shouldn't have insulted the horse."

* * *

Sorry, for the unsatisfactory lampshade hanging. Yes, Fay rode those dragon creatures well in the land of Shura, so in theory he should be able to ride a horse. The only real excuse is that the horse hates him and 'rule-of-funny.'

I have decided to work on my LJ account. I will post a link to my livejournal on my profile as soon as I update.


	5. Reflections of the Sun

Pre-TRC. One of the few Kendappa/Tomoyo sister fics you will ever feast your fandom eyes on. I love the thought of them as sisters too much not to write about them.

…

She was named for the sun, and her sister was named for the moon. No two sisters, both similar in continence, yet different in substance, could have more deceiving names, for Tomoyo was everything Kendappa was not and more. Tomoyo, or Princess Tsukiyomi, was not her moon, and she did not believe herself to be quite as magnanimous as the sun. In truth, she was quite the shady character, not that she faulted her nature, but she recognized her own ruthlessness.

She focused on the training ground, perched next to her sister under the comfort of the trees. Her body tensed, and her heart leaped with the desire to join the lovely ninja sparring with the scraggly boy. If only she was a blade, so Sohma could wield her.

She attempted to dismiss the young boy, Kurogane, from her thoughts. She had no set opinion of him. Such a turbulent, naïve boy was beneath her interests. Her sister thought differently. Upon first meeting the boy, Kendappa, as Princess Amaterasu, and protector of her people, was prepared to strike through the grief-stricken child with the cold apathy of steel. However, her smaller and magnificently stronger sister stepped between her and the boy. If Kendappa was steel, then Tomoyo was silk. The young priestess's magic constrained the dangerous child, and her smooth words exercised the demons in his heart…

…Still, watching the little ninja, she could not help but to compare him to a demon. Although he was only training with Sohma, he swung with deadly intent. The little monster, though, could not compete with the woman ninja's cold efficiency. She would knock him down soon.

"Little Sister," Kendappa said. Her voice was soft but with a slight edge.

"Yes, Older Sister," Tomoyo said just as softly.

"Remind me again why you let the black demon join the same rank as Sohma." She looked at her sister's face and saw the sun in her benevolent smile.

"You always try to find a reason for everything, Older Sister. I had no motive. He asked to serve me and I granted him his wish. That is all." She continued to watch the duel. Kendappa noticed that her sister did not share her excitement for battle. Even feigning vague interest was a task for Tomoyo. Her sister, passionate and magnanimous, could not abide by any suffering.

"May I ask you a question now, Older Sister?"

"You may."

"Did you insist that Sohma serve under me for any other motive than for my protection?" {1} she said, implying everything by saying nothing.

She smiled; secretly proud of her sister's shrewd tactics, but Kendappa would not bow to her own game. "I value your protection, Little Sister, for you are my precious only sister, but do you value your own protection? For what purpose do you keep a demon on a leash?"

"Not for the same purpose you keep Sohma on yours," she said. Her voice resounded with innocence, a brilliant tactic that both sisters employed for less than innocent purposes.

The Sun Goddess blushing was a rare sight, but her blood did flow to her cheeks, despite her best interest. "Your words cut deep, Little Sister." She hid her face in her sleeve, hiding her amusement from Tomoyo, less she was encouraged to tease further. The little princess knew just how to strike Amaterasu down. Perhaps Tsukiyomi was just as ruthless as her sister was.

…

{1} because this is a drabble, I could not properly convey the implications of this sentence. Kendappa's reason for insisting Sohma serve Tomoyo instead of her can be summed up with the etiquette of bushido. It is taboo for a vassal and his/her lord to fraternize. Sohma, being a loyal ninja, would not think of stepping her boundaries with her lord. Stoicism and disciplined servitude was important in the warrior class of Japan. A warrior risked his/her reputation and life by getting involved with his/her lord. By having Sohma as her sister's vassal, Kendappa gets to have Sohma nearby without the implications of a lord and vassal in a relationship. Class was another issue. However, since I am unsure of Sohma's background, at least in TRC, I have no clue about her class. It was a stroke of brilliance that Sohma actually serves Tomoyo instead of Kendappa.

Also, do not challenge Tomoyo to a duel of wits, for she knows your true love and all your secrets.


	6. RINGTONE

**RINGTONE**

Pure fluff with a familial feel - no pairings.

The setting is during the series, with no real set time frame, but definitely before all the angst happens.

* * *

"_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…. You make me happy when skies are gray…. You never know dear, how much I love you…, so please don't take my sunshine away._"

All eyes were on the small electronic device that spewed sentimental lyrics like a current of sugarplums and rainbows. "That is your ringtone, Kuro-rin. Doesn't it fit?" said Fai in an equally sweet voice.

The two teens backed away from the ninja, looking at him as though he would detonate. No one could really tell with the ominous shadow that covered Kurogane's face, but he was not pleased with the ringtone. The aggravated presence around the ninja was self-contained to a dangerous level. The silence preluded a massacre; of that they were certain. The first victim would most likely be the cloud-patterned phone dangling from Fai's hand, followed by his hand.

"How…is…that…fitting…moron?" he said with each syllable sounded like a ticking time bomb.

"Because it's cute," the mage said boldly.

Upon entering the new world, they quickly adapted to the technical marvels of the place. One of those happened to be portable phones. With each of them using one, they could easily split up to search for a feather, and just as easily alert one another, like traveling with a messenger in the pocket. Fai and Mokona were the most enthused about the phones, quickly deciphering the many frivolous uses for them, one of which happened to be individualized ringtones.

Syaoran tapped Sakura on the shoulder, eliciting a startled gasp. The girl had been focusing intently on the growing tension between the two men as if it was a live beast. When she noticed Syaoran nod toward the door, she gathered Mokona in her arms and escaped into the hallway. Although she feared neither Kurogane nor Fai, being in the same room with them was about as uncomfortable as being trapped between two cats fighting…, or was that a cat and a dog.

Mokona chuckled when Kurogane yelled, "Don't use that sentimental crap for me. Do I look like I appreciate it?"

"Kurogane is embarrassed," teased Mokona.

A few choice curses echoed from the room.

Fai replied lightly, "Maybe the song will grow on you? Want to listen to it again?"

"No. Change it."

Sakura and Syaoran had equal looks of unease, as opposed to Mokona, who was humming. Syaoran said, "I wouldn't call that embarrassed."

Sakura shook her head. "Fai-san likes to tease, maybe a little too much. That song was…um." She paused, a look of determined concentration on her face.

"Different," provided Syaoran with some hesitation.

She nodded. In some ways, as she thought about it, Syaoran seemed more mature than the two in the room. Kurogane and Fai acted with deceptive impulses. She was not shrewd enough to see past their defenses to decipher their deceptions, but she knew how to spot a defense. "If only they could act more natural around each other," she lamented in a worn voice. Whatever their motives were, they were being childish. Syaoran nodded and both fell silent.

Mokona broke the silence, "Kurogane is so brutish. I didn't even get a chance to show him my ringtone." She pulled out a cell phone, from a place neither teen could see.

"You had a song for Kurogane?" He and Sakura shared a look – did Mokona not pay attention to Kurogane's reactions to silly songs?

Mokona replied, "I have the same song for everyone because we are all family." The teens, pleasantly surprised, nodded in encouragement.

"I would like to hear it," said Syaoran. Mokona's fluffy paw bumped the buttons on her phone with surprising accuracy.

The song, deep and soothing, played, "_Here is a little song I wrote, You might want to sing it note for note… Don't worry… be happy… In every life we have some trouble, When you worry you make it double Don't worry, be happy..._"

Mokona questioned, "Do you think he'll like it?"

Sakura smiled sweetly, even as Kurogane argued from the other room about mages with too much time on their hands. "I think this song is from you heart. Kurogane will appreciate it," she spoke with mild assurance.

Although Syaoran did not have the same look of confidence, he nodded in agreement. "Don't worry," he echoed.

"Be happy," Sakura added.

Meanwhile, in the room, Kurogane had pried the phone from Fai's fingers. They both stopped wresting over the phone as an unusual sound floated from the hallway. Three voices melded in harmony, united in jubilation and the urge to sing as loudly as possible. The effect was the same as if Kurogane just noticed an elephant in the room. "Are they singing?" he said, phone and grudge forgotten.

"_Don't Worry, Be Happy"_


End file.
